Guadalupe pushed open the bedroom door and found chaos: broken toys, torn clothes, an overturned chair, and in the corner, an eight-year-old boy with his fists clenched and his eyes red from crying. When he saw Guadalupe, he exploded. “Get out of here, I hate you!” Mateo ran toward her, his fists raised. Guadalupe didn’t back down.

 She held both his fists firmly, but without hurting him. The boy struggled, spat, tried to kick. “You can hit me if you want,” she said, looking him straight in the eyes. “You can scream, but I’m not going anywhere.” Mateo stopped, panting. “I… I hate everyone. I know. I hated too.” Guadalupe held him firmly. I had a brother.

She died when I was 12, and it made me so angry I wanted to smash everything, just like you. The boy stood still, trembling. Your mother died, didn’t she? It was as if something inside him had completely shattered. Mateo fell to his knees and began to cry. A desperate cry from someone who had endured everything for far too long.

 Guadalupe crouched down and opened her arms. He threw himself into her arms and wept on her shoulder. He wept for the mother who would never return. He wept for the rage he didn’t know how to heal. “Cry all you need to,” she whispered, “I’m not going anywhere.” When Mateo finally stopped, he was exhausted.

 He rested his head on her shoulder and fell asleep. That’s how Esteban Benavides found them. He stood frozen in the doorway, unable to believe it. The son no one was allowed to touch was sleeping peacefully in a stranger’s lap. For the first time in four years, Esteban felt hope. “How long has he been like this?” Esteban whispered as he entered the room.

 About 15 minutes. He needed to cry. He cried. His voice broke. Guadalupe nodded. Esteban looked at his son, his face relaxed, without the tension he always carried on his shoulders. “I’m Esteban, your father. And you, Guadalupe, from the cleaning agency, how did you manage?” He didn’t finish the question. I understood his anger. “I lost my brother in a shooting.”

 I know what it’s like to want to destroy everything. Esteban closed his eyes for a second. When Sofía died, I was driving. A truck ran a red light. I crashed into her side. Mateo saw everything from the back seat. He was four years old. And you blame yourself for being alive every day. Guadalupe stroked Mateo’s hair.

 “Could I come back?” Esteban asked desperately. “He’s already had seven psychologists, and none of them have been able to do what you did in half an hour.” “I’ll come back, but not as a cleaning lady. I only know how to be myself. That’s exactly what he needs.” At that moment, the tension was palpable.

 Esteban, what’s going on here? Antonia stood in the doorway, watching the scene with surprise that quickly turned to anger. “I’m going to hire her,” Esteban said, getting up three times a week so she could look after Mateo. “You drove a stranger crazy, a stranger who achieved what no one else has in four years.”

 Antonia pressed her lips together. “We’ll talk later in private.” She gave Guadalupe an icy stare. “You can leave now.” When Guadalupe left with Esteban to finalize the details, Antonia stood in the hallway, her face contorted with pure hatred. Esteban led Guadalupe into the kitchen. “I apologize for my aunt. She’s lived here since Sofia died.”

 Sometimes she’s overprotective. Okay, I understand. You can start on Monday, three times a week. I’ll pay you triple what you earn as a cleaner. Triple! Her eyes widened. You’ll be saving my son. That’s priceless. Guadalupe hesitated. That money would change her life and her mother’s, but it would also thrust her into a world she didn’t know. But then she remembered Mateo’s peaceful little face.

Done. They shook hands. Outside the kitchen. Antonia heard everything. She walked to the office, locked the door, and went to the safe embedded behind the painting. Inside were bundles of bills and folders with documents, fake invoices, fabricated receipts, all in Mateo’s name, justifying treatments that never existed.

 Antonia had been embezzling money for four years, more than 3,600,000 Mexican pesos. If Esteban remarried, his new wife would audit the accounts. Antonia would be discovered, lose everything, and could even go to jail. She took out her cell phone and typed a message. “I need to talk to you, urgently. We have a problem.” Antonia looked at the folders in the safe and slammed the door shut. “That one won’t last,” she muttered.

I won’t allow it. Two weeks passed. Guadalupe went to the house every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. At first, Mateo was distrustful, but little by little he opened up. He asked her if she would leave like the others. Guadalupe promised she wouldn’t, and she kept her promise. Mateo started eating without throwing food away. He picked up his toys when she asked him to.

 He even smiled for the first time when she picked up a shopping cart that had fallen under the bed. Esteban watched everything from the doorway, crying with relief, but not everything was rosy for Mercedes. The maids started whispering among themselves, “She’s going to end up with the boss. You’ll see,” said the cook. “A cleaner. He’d never stoop that low. You haven’t seen the way he looks at her.”

Antonia heard everything, and every comment about Guadalupe felt like a stab. One afternoon, while Mateo was playing in the garden with Guadalupe, Esteban joined them. The three of them were laughing at something the boy had said. They seemed like a family. Antonia watched from the office window, took out her cell phone, and started taking pictures—several pictures.

 He was going to need proof when the time came to act. That night, after Guadalupe left, Esteban put Mateo to bed. “Dad, is Guadalupe going to be my new mom?” the boy asked. Esteban almost choked. “She’s your friend, son. She’s here to help you, but I wish she could stay forever.”

 You never know what’s going to happen, Mateo, but as long as she can be here, she will be. Do you think Mom would have liked that? Esteban held back his tears. I think your mom would have loved it. Mateo smiled and fell asleep. And for the first time since the accident, Esteban allowed himself to think that maybe it was possible to be happy again.

 At midnight on Tuesday, Antonia was in the office reviewing the forged documents. Specialized psychological treatment, 240,000 Mexican pesos. Intensive occupational therapy, 180,000 Mexican pesos. It was all a lie. The money went directly into her account, and Esteban never questioned anything. But now there was a young woman who was showing up three times a week.

 A young woman Esteban was clearly beginning to admire, perhaps more than admire. If they got involved, if they got married, the new wife would audit the accounts, uncover the fraud. Antonia would go to jail. She took out her cell phone and called her accomplice accountant. “I need you to investigate Guadalupe Ríos.”

 I want to know everything about her. Her past, her family, her previous jobs, everything. What for? Just do as I say. She took a deep breath. I’ll pay you extra. Fine, but it’s going to cost a fortune. Never mind, just bring me something I can use against her. Antonia hung up and opened the drawer. She took out the envelope with the photos of Guadalupe with Mateo, with Esteban, the three of them together, looking like a family.

 “You’re not going to ruin my life,” she whispered. “This house is mine. This money is mine, and I’m not going to lose it all because of some random girl from the slums.” The next morning, when Guadalupe arrived, Antonia was waiting for her. “Good morning, Guadalupe. I wanted to ask you something. Please don’t touch the objects in the living room.”

 Some things have great sentimental value. But I’m not touching anything, I’m just here to look after Mateo. I know, I know. It’s just a warning. You know how it is. You feel unsafe with new people in the house. The phrase was a subtle stab in the back. New people. As if Guadalupe were an intruder. Antonia had already planted the first seed. Friday night.

 Mateo insisted so much that Guadalupe stay for dinner that Esteban finally convinced her. Afterward, the two of them stayed in the kitchen talking while washing the dishes. “Sometimes I forget where I am,” Guadalupe said, rinsing a plate. “It seems like a fairy tale.” “It’s not a fairy tale.” Esteban dried his hands. “There’s pain, trauma, guilt, but it can have a happy ending.”

 And I have faith that you two will have one. You and you. Me too, I hope. They both stared at each other in that silent kitchen. Esteban took a step toward her. Guadalupe, I can’t stop thinking about you. Her heart raced. This is crazy. It is, but it’s been so long since I’ve felt anything. And with you, I feel. I’m not from your world.

 This was never going to work. What if I don’t care about the world and all I care about is you? At that moment, a voice called from the living room, “Dad, come see.” The two of them quickly moved away. Esteban went into the living room, but stopped at the door. Guadalupe didn’t say anything she didn’t mean to say. Ten minutes later, the three of them were in the living room watching cartoons.

 Mateo jumped up and down on the sofa, excited. “Do you know what we could do?” he blurted out. “Lupe could be my mom, and then we’d be a real family.” Silence. Mateo began, “Esteban. I’m not saying she’s going to replace Mom, but she’s not here, and Lupe is. And I love her very much. And you like her too, Dad.” “I can see that.”

 The boy took Guadalupe’s hand in one of his own and Esteban’s in the other and joined them together. “There, now you’re boyfriend and girlfriend. I chose you.” Esteban and Guadalupe stood holding hands, joined by a boy who had no idea of ​​the bombshell he’d just dropped. Neither of them let go for a few seconds until Guadalupe carefully withdrew her hand.

 It’s late, I have to go. On the way to Guadalupe’s house, the two remained silent, a deathly silence, full of unspoken words. When Esteban stopped in front of her house, Guadalupe was about to get out, but he gently took her arm and asked her about what Mateo had said. “And if he’s seeing something we’re afraid to admit, Esteban, I’m not asking for anything.”

 I just want you to know that what I feel is real. And if you feel something too, that’s okay. And if you don’t feel anything, that’s okay too. Guadalupe felt tears sting her eyes. I’m sorry. Yes, I’m sorry, but we’re from different worlds. People are going to judge. Your family is going to think I’m just after your money. I don’t want Mateo to suffer. I don’t want you to regret this.

 I don’t care about any of that. But I do. She opened the door and practically ran out. Good night, Esteban. Esteban stood there watching her get in and close the door. He hit the steering wheel in frustration. What he didn’t see was the figure watching from afar. Antonia was in her car, three houses back. She had followed them.

 She saw everything. The way Esteban held her arm, the way they looked at each other, the intensity of their conversation, and she photographed it all with her phone’s zoom lens. “I’ve got it,” she murmured, looking at the photos. “Finally, I have what I need.” She started the car and drove off with a sinister smile on her face.

 The real battle was starting tomorrow, and Guadalupe had no idea what was coming. Guadalupe arrived on Monday and found Esteban in the living room. “Good morning,” she said, still uncomfortable after the conversation in the car. “Good morning, Mateo is waiting for you.” Antonia appeared in the hallway before she went upstairs. “Guada. Just a moment.”

 “Do you know anyone who’s worked with you before? Any references?” “But Mr. Esteban already hired me. It’s just for my peace of mind, dear. You’ll be alone with my great-nephew.” Guadalupe went upstairs with a knot in her stomach. Antonia was investigating. Later, the maids whispered in the kitchen about how Antonia was looking into the new girl.

 One of them swore she’d seen fake therapy bills for the boy. That afternoon, Antonia approached Esteban at the entrance. “Don’t you find it strange that she won Mateo over so quickly? People like that have ulterior motives.” “Antonia, don’t start. You’ve only known her for two weeks. I’ve known you for 35 years. Trust me.”

 Esteban went upstairs without answering, but the seed of doubt had already been planted. That night, a friend called him asking if it was true that he was getting involved with an employee, that everyone was talking about it, that the class difference could end very badly. Esteban hung up angrily, but the words kept echoing in his head.

 On Wednesday, the atmosphere in the mansion had changed. The maids barely looked at Guadalupe. “Doña Mercedes, is something wrong?” The cook hesitated. “Doña Antonia is saying you were fired from your previous job for theft.” Guadalupe felt the ground shift beneath her. “That’s a lie. I quit because my father got sick.” “I know, girl, but she’s convincing.”

 Guadalupe’s mother called her in the afternoon, worried, saying that people like them don’t mix with the rich, that in the end, it’s always the poor who lose out. When Mateo woke up from his nap, he noticed she was different. “Lupe, are you sad?” he asked. “Sometimes people tell lies about you, and that hurts.”

 Someone told a lie about you. Mateo hugged her tightly. I don’t believe in lies, I believe in you. And that’s what made Guadalupe cry. Esteban looked for Guadalupe before she left. I heard what my aunt is saying about you being fired for theft. Do you believe it? No, but I need to know the truth.

 She told him about her sick father and how he had resigned amicably. Esteban believed her. “My aunt is doing this on purpose. Do you want to get rid of me?” “Why?” “Because she’s afraid of losing control.” He looked her in the eye. “And because you’re changing everything.” A deathly silence fell between them. “Perhaps it’s best if I leave before things get worse.”

 No, please. He took a step toward her. Mateo needs you, and so do I. Esteban, since you arrived, life has come back to this house. It’s not just Mateo, it’s me too. We barely know each other. I know, but I can’t stop thinking about you. Now he was so close she could feel his warmth. This is crazy. I know. He closed the distance and kissed her. It was a kiss filled with months of loneliness.

Guadalupe should have stopped, but she couldn’t, because she felt the same way. When they separated, they were both breathless. “We can’t,” she whispered, “I know, but I can’t stop.” Guadalupe grabbed her backpack and left before she did something she would regret.

 Hidden in the shadows at the garden window, Antonia lowered her cell phone. She had filmed everything. Antonia spent the next two days planning. On Thursday night, she went to the room that had been Sofia’s. She took the diamond earring that Esteban had given his wife. Valuable, but more than that, a precious memento. On Friday, Guadalupe arrived as usual.

 Antonia greeted her with a smile. “Good morning, Guadalupe. Mateo is waiting for you.” The morning passed uneventfully. Guadalupe played with Mateo and read him a story. After lunch, while the boy watched cartoons, she went to tidy his room. She left her backpack on the chair. Antonia crept in, as stealthy as a snake.

 He glanced down the hallway, opened his backpack, and tucked the earring deep inside among his clothes. He closed it and left quietly. Two hours later, he burst into Sofia’s room, making a scene. Esteban rushed upstairs. “What’s going on? The earring, the diamond one, is gone!” he exclaimed, tears welling in his eyes. It was the last important memory he had of her. “Calm down, let’s look for it.”

 Someone took it. Guadalupe appeared in the doorway. Did something happen? Antonia looked at her accusingly. A valuable diamond earring was missing. Who came into this room today? Esteban asked. Antonia let the silence speak. She looked meaningfully at Guadalupe. “I didn’t come in here,” Guadalupe said, her blood running cold.

 “We’re going to search the house,” Esteban decided, and the bags too. Guadalupe felt the trap closing. You can search. I have nothing to hide. Guadalupe’s backpack was in Mateo’s room. Esteban put it on the bed and opened it. He took out the small water bottle, the sweater, the wallet, and then, at the bottom, wrapped in a blouse, the diamond earring. The silence was deafening.

“I don’t know how that got there,” Guadalupe whispered. “I swear.” Antonia covered her mouth. “Oh my God.” Esteban looked at the earring, then at Guadalupe, and she saw the doubt in his eyes. “You don’t believe me, Guadalupe. I didn’t take it. Someone put it there.” “Who would do that?” Antonia asked, too innocently. “You would.” Guadalupe looked directly at her. “You would.”

 How dare you accuse me? Enough. Esteban ran a hand over his face. Guadalupe, I think it’s best if you go home until we clear this up. You’ve already decided. Tears fell. You’re kicking me out. I just need time to think. It’s not necessary. She grabbed her backpack and threw the earring onto the bed. Keep this.

 Mateo was in the hallway. He had heard everything. “Lupe, are you leaving?” Guadalupe knelt in front of him. “I’m leaving, but not because I want to. You promised you wouldn’t leave. You promised.” “I know, my love, and I’m so sorry.” “No,” Mateo started to shout. “You can’t leave.” Guadalupe hugged him tightly. “I love you.” “Yes, never forget that.” She let go and ran downstairs before she lost her nerve.

 The front door slammed shut. Esteban stood listening to his son scream in the hallway. Antonia wore an almost imperceptible smile. Saturday dawned a living hell. Mateo locked himself in his room and smashed everything again. He screamed, he cried, he wouldn’t let Esteban in.

 Go away, I hate you. You kicked her out. Esteban pounded on the door in desperation. Antonia appeared in the hallway. Let her calm down. Are you satisfied now? Look what you did. What did I do? I caught a thief. She’s not a thief. Esteban turned away, his eyes red. And I know you orchestrated all of this. You’re defending her because you’re in love. I saw them kissing.

Esteban froze. “Do you think she’s here for love?” Antonia continued. “Or is it for the money?” “Shut up, you’re pathetic. Shut up.” The shout echoed throughout the house. Esteban was breathing heavily, his hands trembling. “Pack your things and get out of this house today.” Antonia turned pale. “You’re going to kick me out because of some slum girl?”

 I’m going to fire you because you lied, manipulated, and made my son suffer. You have until the end of the day. She entered the room and slammed the door. Antonia was left alone, trembling, but she wasn’t finished yet. She took out her cell phone and made a call. “Okay, newsroom, I have a complaint. Millionaire businessman takes advantage of vulnerable employee.”

 I even have a video. The rest of the weekend was torture. Mateo was locked up, not eating, screaming every time Esteban tried to approach him. The following Friday night, after an unbearable week, Esteban finally managed to force Mateo to sleep with the help of a sedative prescribed by the doctor.

 He opened the laptop with trembling hands. He was going to review all the security camera footage, second by second, until he found proof of what Antonia had done, because Guadalupe was right, it had been a setup, and he was going to prove it. Saturday morning, Mateo didn’t touch his breakfast. Esteban thought it was a tantrum.

 Son, do you need something to eat? I don’t want to, Mateo, I’ll only eat when I get back to Lupe’s. At lunch, the boy pushed his plate away. In the afternoon, he refused his snack. At dinner, he didn’t even leave his room. Sunday was the same, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday. Mateo only drank water when Esteban insisted. On Thursday, the boy was pale, too weak to get out of bed. Mateo, for God’s sake, you’re going to get sick. I don’t care.

What do you mean, no? Lupe came back. No, then I don’t want anything. Esteban called the pediatrician. The doctor came Friday morning. He examined Mateo. “Mr. Esteban, your son is becoming severely dehydrated. If this continues, I’m going to have to hospitalize him. He hasn’t eaten since Saturday, a week. This is a hunger strike.”

 “I’ve seen cases like this before in traumatized children.” The doctor closed his briefcase. “What was the trigger?” “An important person left.” “Then bring that person back, or your son will starve to death.” That afternoon, Mateo fainted in the bathroom. Esteban found him on the floor and picked him up. His body was limp, too light. Mateo carried him to bed.

 The boy slowly opened his eyes. “Dad, I’m here, son. I just wanted Lupe back.” “I know. I’m going to fix this. I promise.” Mateo closed his eyes again. Esteban left the room and collapsed in tears in the hallway. His son was dying, and it was all his fault. He had to find the proof; he had to find it now.

 Esteban spent Friday night reviewing the security camera footage. There were cameras in the living room, the hallways, and the garden, but not in Mateo’s room or Sofía’s. He saw Antonia enter Sofía’s room on Thursday and leave minutes later, but he didn’t see what she did inside.

 He saw Guadalupe going upstairs Friday morning, the backpack left on the chair, and then Antonia entering the room. The hallway camera showed her looking around and going in. Forty-three seconds later, she was leaving. Enough time to plant something in a backpack, but not conclusive proof. Antonia could say she went in for any reason. Esteban slammed his fist on the table in frustration.

 On Saturday morning, while changing Mateo’s bedsheets, she found a piece of paper under his pillow. It was a drawing done with colored pencils. There were three people, a tall woman with her hair up, a door, and a colorful purse. In the drawing, the woman was putting something small and shiny inside the purse, written in childish, crooked handwriting. The aunt put the earring in Lupe’s bag.

 Esteban’s heart raced. “Mateo, son, look at me.” The boy opened his eyes with effort. “Did you see Aunt Antonia put the earring in Guadalupe’s backpack?” Mateo nodded. “Why didn’t you say anything before?” “I tried.” His voice came out weak, but you didn’t want to listen. You just wanted her gone. You chose to believe Aunt Antonia and not me.

 Esteban felt a pain in his chest that almost knocked him down. “Forgive me, son. I’m so sorry.” He grabbed the drawing and ran to the office. He had proof. Along with the security camera footage, it might be enough, but he needed more. Esteban went back to the videos, put on his headphones, and turned up the volume. He was on the part where Antonia came out of Mateo’s room.

 He turned up the volume, isolated the audio, and heard it clearly. “Okay, now you’re done for.” It was his voice, without a doubt. Antonia had admitted it out loud, thinking no one would hear her. Esteban saved the file, made a backup in three places, and called his lawyer. “Rodrigo, I need you here now.” The lawyer arrived in an hour.

 Esteban showed him everything: the video, the audio, the drawing. This is enough to prove she planned it, the lawyer said. But there’s more. Have you audited the accounts? No, I never had a reason to. I think it’s best to audit them. People who plan something like this usually hide something bigger. Esteban called the accountant. The man answered, trembling, “Mr. Esteban, I saw the news that Doña Antonia was evicted from the house. I need to speak with you.”

“About what? About the accounts. She forced me to forge documents. I’m afraid they’ll arrest me too. An hour later, the accountant was in the office with a USB drive in his hand. Here’s everything. She was embezzling money using Mateo’s name. Treatments that never happened, fake therapies.”

 How much? 3,924,000 Mexican pesos in the last four years. Esteban turned pale. He felt like the ground was moving beneath him. Antonia hadn’t planned it all out of jealousy. She’d done it because he was stealing. And she knew that if he got involved with someone else, if he remarried, his new wife would find out everything.

 You kept the evidence, everything. Fake invoices, transfers. I was afraid they’d accuse me too, so I kept a copy of everything. Esteban took the USB drive and squeezed it in his hand. Now he had everything, everything to destroy Antonia and clear Guadalupe’s name. Antonia was in a modest hotel downtown. She still believed she could turn things around. She had leaked the story to the press.

She had the video of the kiss. Esteban would have to retract his statement. On Sunday night, there was a knock at the door. She opened it and found Esteban standing there. Two police officers were behind him. “Esteban, what?” “Antonia Benavides. You are under arrest for misappropriation, falsification of documents, and defamation.”

 What? One of the police officers stepped forward. You have the right to remain silent. This is a mistake. Esteban. Say something. It’s not a mistake. Esteban showed her a piece of paper. Here’s the audit. 3,924,000 pesos embezzled. Fake invoices. Phantom accounts. All in my son’s name. Antonia paled. I… I can explain. There’s more. He showed her the cell phone with the video, the hallway camera, you entering the room, the audio of your voice saying, “Now you’re really done for after planting the earring.”

“You can’t use that.” “Of course I can, and I will.” Her legs gave way. “Esteban, I’m your aunt. I took care of you when Sofia died. You used my son. You used his name to steal from me. You framed an innocent woman.” Her voice was harsh. “You mean nothing to me anymore.” The police handcuffed her. Even after all this, a part of Esteban was pained to see his aunt taken away, but the part that loved his son was pained even more.

 “This is a mistake!” Antonia screamed as they dragged her away. “That slum girl is the one to blame. She planned everything. You’re the only one who manipulated anyone, and now you’re going to pay.” Antonia was shoved into the patrol car, screaming. The car sped off with the siren blaring. The lawyer put a hand on Esteban’s shoulder.

 And now what? Now I’m going to find Guadalupe and beg her to forgive me. Esteban arrived at Guadalupe’s house at 10 p.m. on Sunday. He knocked on the door. A woman in a bathrobe opened it, looking suspicious. “Who is it?” “Good evening, ma’am. I’m Esteban. I work with Guadalupe. I really need to talk to her.” The mother crossed her arms. “My daughter doesn’t want to talk to you. Please.”

I discovered the truth. I have proof that he’s innocent. Too late, young man. Mateo is in the hospital. He hasn’t eaten in a week. He’s dying. The woman hesitated. Dying. Hunger strike. He’ll only eat if she comes back. Tears burned her eyes. Please, I’m not asking for myself, I’m asking for my son.

 The mother looked down the dark hallway. She’s not here. What? She left Friday morning. She went to her cousin’s house in Medellín. She said she couldn’t stand being in Mexico City anymore. Do you have her phone? I do. But she doesn’t answer anyone, only replies to messages every now and then. Please send her a message. Tell her I need to talk to her, that she’s cleared of all charges, that Mateo needs her.

 The mother remained silent. “Ah, I’ll send it, but I can’t guarantee anything. My daughter suffered so much because of her family. I know, and I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to fix it.” She returned to the car trembling, took out her cell phone, and sent a message to Guadalupe. “Guadalupe, please. I found out everything.”

 I have proof you’re innocent. My aunt was arrested. But Mateo is in the hospital. He won’t eat without you. Please come back. Not for me, for him. He sent it and stared, waiting. Nothing. Just then, his cell phone vibrated. Unknown number. I’m coming back, but it’s not for you. Esteban felt relief burst in his chest, rested his forehead on the steering wheel, and finally breathed.

 On Monday morning, Esteban was at the hospital. Mateo had an IV in his arm, his eyes closed, his breathing shallow. The doctor had said that if he didn’t eat in the next few hours, they would insert a feeding tube. Forced feeding. “Son, please, I’m trying to bring Guada back, but you need to be strong for when she arrives.” Mateo didn’t respond. At 2 p.m., a nurse came in.

Mr. Esteban, there’s a young lady who wants to see you. His heart skipped a beat. Let her in. Guadalupe appeared in the doorway. Same clothes as always, backpack on her back, red eyes. You’re back, Esteban whispered. She looked toward the bed and covered her mouth. My God, how did they let it get to this point? Her voice was harsh.

 How could you not believe me and almost kill your own son? Esteban backed away, overcome with anger. “We’ll talk later,” she interrupted, approaching the bed. “He’s what’s important now.” Guadalupe gently took Mateo’s hand. “Mateo, my love, it’s me. It’s Lupe.” “Nothing. Mateo, open your eyes for me.” The boy didn’t move. Guadalupe looked at the monitor. Weak heartbeat. “How long has he been like this exactly?” “A week.”

 Since last Saturday, she leaned close to his ear. Mateo, I’m back. Like I promised. I was never really going to abandon you. Now I’m here. Silence. The minutes passed. Guadalupe continued speaking to him softly, telling him that everything was alright, that she wouldn’t leave again, that he could trust her. 5 minutes, 10, 15.

 Esteban began to think it wouldn’t work, but then Mateo’s fingers moved. That’s it, that’s it. Wake up for me, my love. Slowly, very slowly. Mateo opened his eyes, fixed his gaze on Guadalupe’s face. For a second he seemed not to believe it. Lupe. His voice came out hoarse, broken. It’s me. I’ve returned. You. You promised, and I kept my word.

I’m here. I’m not leaving anymore. Mateo started to cry. Tears streamed down his thin face. I was afraid you’d never come back. I know. Guadalupe wiped his tears. But it’s over now, and you have to get strong again. You need to eat for me. Mateo nodded. Will you stay here with me? I’m staying. I won’t leave your side.

 He squeezed her hand with what little strength he had left, and for the first time in a week, he smiled. Esteban was leaning against the wall, silent tears streaming down his face. Guadalupe had returned, and she had just saved his son’s life. But when she finally looked at him, her eyes didn’t reflect forgiveness; they reflected anger, they reflected pain, and Esteban knew he had a lot, a lot, to fix.

Guadalupe spent three days in the hospital, never leaving Mateo’s side. She slept on the uncomfortable couch, ate the junk food, and never let go of the boy’s hand. Esteban tried to talk to her several times. Guadalupe simply turned her face away. “We’ll talk later,” was all she would say. Mateo gradually improved.

 First he had broth, then half a loaf of bread, and on the third day he asked for pasta. “What if I can’t eat it all?” he asked fearfully. “Then eat only what you can, no one is rushing you.” He ate half. Guadalupe celebrated as if she had won a medal. On the third day, the doctor discharged him.

 “Can he continue his recovery at home as long as he has someone to take care of him?” “I’ll take care of him,” Guadalupe said. “Are you family?” She’s the person he wants around. Guadalupe interrupted without looking at Esteban. And that’s what matters. On the way to the house, Mateo fell asleep in the back seat. Esteban was driving.

Guadalupe stared out the window. “We need to talk,” Esteban insisted. “Not now, Guadalupe, please.” Explain what? She looked at him, her eyes shining. “That you doubted me? You accused me of theft in front of your son. You kicked me out without even trying to find out the truth. I know. I was very wrong. You almost killed your son, Esteban. Because of your lack of trust. That child went a week without eating.”

 Do you realize? Esteban gripped the steering wheel. I know. And I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to fix it. You don’t have to fix it with me, you have to fix it with him. Guadalupe looked out the window again. I came back for Mateo, only for him. The rest of the drive was silent. When they arrived, Mateo woke up and looked around.

 Lupe, will you stay here with me? Yes, my love. Do you promise? I promise. He took her hand tightly and they went inside together. Esteban stayed behind carrying the bags, feeling the weight of the distance between him and Guadalupe. Guadalupe moved into the maid’s quarters.

 Officially, she was Mateo’s caregiver, with a decent salary and a contract. But between her and Esteban, there was only silence. Mateo was improving little by little. He started eating again, playing, and smiling. But he wouldn’t leave Guadalupe’s side, afraid she would disappear. “Lupe, will you be here when I wake up?” he asked every night. “Yes, my love. Sleep peacefully.” A week later, Esteban tried again. It was night. Mateo was asleep.

 Guadalupe was in the kitchen making tea. “Can I sit down?” Esteban asked. She shrugged. He sat down. “I wanted to show you something.” He took out his phone and opened a video. “It’s from the hallway camera.” He turned the screen. Guadalupe watched silently. She saw Antonia going into Mateo’s room. 43 seconds later, she was leaving.

 Antonia’s voice is also on the audio. There. Now you’re really done for. Guadalupe closed her eyes. I know this doesn’t change what I did, but I wanted you to see it. She was arrested. Your name is cleared. The case was dismissed, and you were officially declared innocent. Thanks for showing it to me, but it doesn’t change anything between us. I know. She picked up the cup and headed for the stairs.

 Guadalupe stopped, but didn’t turn around. “You’re amazing. The way you take care of Mateo, your patience, your love. He’s so lucky, and so am I.” Guadalupe went upstairs without answering. In the following days, small things changed. Guadalupe no longer ran away when he came in. She answered when he asked about Mateo. She even agreed to have dinner with him.

 It was a quiet dinner, but without any palpable tension. Afterward, Mateo asked to watch a movie. The three of them sat on the sofa, Mateo in the middle. Halfway through the movie, he fell asleep. “I think it’s best to take him to bed,” Guadalupe whispered. “I’ll carry him.” They picked Mateo up together, laid him on the bed, tucked him in, and turned off the light. They stood in the hallway.

 “Thank you,” Esteban said, “for coming back, for taking care of him, for not giving up even when I gave you every reason to. I didn’t do it for you, I did it for Mateo, I know, but still, thank you.” She nodded and went to her room. But Esteban saw something different in that look. The anger was there, but there was a small crack, a possibility. For now, that was enough.

 Two weeks later, the news broke. Businessman accuses employee of theft, but it was a setup by her criminal aunt. There were photos of them at the hospital, at the mansion, even the kiss Antonia filmed. Esteban’s phone wouldn’t stop ringing. Worried friends, business partners questioning everything, journalists demanding interviews. Guadalupe was pale. I saw the article. I didn’t give any interviews.

 I don’t know how they got it. It was your aunt. Before they arrested her, Guadalupe’s phone rang. It was her mother. “Daughter, did you see what they’re saying?” “I saw it, Mom. Get out of that house right now. I can’t leave Mateo.” “Guadalupe, those rich people are going to destroy you.” “I know, Mom, but I don’t care. I’m here for the boy.”

 She hung up and looked at Esteban. “Your friends are going to judge. They already are, but I don’t care.” At that moment, Mateo appeared on the stairs. “Why are you sad?” “It’s nothing, my love,” Guadalupe said. “It’s because of the people talking badly about us online.” Esteban’s eyes widened. “How do you know?” “I heard the maid talking.”

She said they’re calling Guada, interested. Mateo, but I don’t care. She went downstairs. I know Guada is here for me because she loves me. You are my family, and anyone who speaks ill of me will have to deal with me. Guadalupe felt her eyes fill with tears. You are very brave. I learned that from you.

Esteban looked at Guadalupe. She looked back at him, and for the first time, there was something different between them. “Shall we eat?” Mateo asked. “I’m hungry.” The three of them went to the kitchen together, and although the world might judge them outside, inside they were becoming a real family.

 Another month passed, the news lessened. The company continued operating normally, and inside the house, things changed. Guadalupe no longer ran away. They talked during dinner, sometimes they laughed. The anger subsided. One night, with Mateo already asleep, Guadalupe went to get a glass of water. Esteban was there, always working late. “It distracts me.” “From what?” “From thinking about you.”

Guadalupe stopped. Esteban, I’m sorry, sometimes it just slips out. She stared out the window. You know what the hardest part is? That I want to hate you. It would be easier. She turned to him. But I can’t. No matter how hard I try, I can’t hate you.

 Esteban stood up slowly, and that makes me angry at myself because I should have left. But every time I think about it, I remember Mateo and you, and so what? And I don’t want to leave. His voice broke. I don’t want to leave. And that scares me a lot. He took a step. You don’t have to leave. You can stay as long as you want. And if I get hurt again, I’m not going to let it happen.

 I promise you, Guadalupe. I’m going to spend the rest of my life proving to you that you can trust me. How do I know you won’t change your mind? Because I love you. He took her hand. I think I’ve loved you since the day I saw you holding Mateo’s fists. You’re the strongest person I know, and I’d be the biggest fool in the world if I let you go. Guadalupe was crying. I love you too, and I hate him.

 I hate loving you after all. So, but stay. She looked into his eyes, saw sincerity, saw love. Okay, I’ll stay. Esteban pulled her into a tight hug. When they separated, their faces were close. He looked at her mouth. She nodded and they kissed. It was different from the first time.

 He wasn’t desperate, he was careful, full of promises. “Mateo is going to be happy,” Esteban said, smiling. “He already knows everything before we do.” They both laughed, and for the first time in months, everything seemed to fall into place. A few months later, Esteban proposed to Guadalupe simply in the garden of the mansion, with Mateo helping to hold the ring. She said yes, crying. A year later, they were married.

 The ceremony was held in the same garden. White flowers, wooden chairs. Guadalupe’s mother sat in the front row, weeping. Mateo, now 10 years old, stood beside Esteban as his page. When the music began, Guadalupe appeared. A simple white dress, her hair loose, carrying a bouquet of daisies.

 She walked alone, head held high. Esteban was crying when she arrived. “You look beautiful, and you’re crying.” “Can I cry at my wedding?” “You can.” Mateo rolled his eyes. “Are they getting married or just going to stand there talking?” Everyone laughed. The judge began the ceremony. When it came time for vows, Esteban was the first.

 Guadalupe, you taught me that it was possible to start over, possible to love again. You saved my son, and you saved me. I also promise to love you every day and never doubt you again. Guadalupe wept. Esteban, you taught me that love has nothing to do with money or social class. It has to do with choosing.

 Every day I choose you. I choose Mateo, I choose this family, and I promise to never give up on us. By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride. Esteban kissed her amidst applause. Mateo jumped in the middle of them. Now Lupe is my real mom. I chose her. Guadalupe took him in her arms.

He’s always been my champion, and you’ve always been my mom. The three of them stayed embraced while everyone applauded. Later, Mateo took Guadalupe aside. “Lupe, can I tell you something?” “Sure. I think Mom Sofía would have really liked you.” Guadalupe felt her heart sink. “Do you think so?” “Yes.”

 She wanted me to be happy. And I’m happy with you. He hugged her. Thank you for not giving up on us. I’ll never give up. At the end of the night, the three of them stayed in the garden looking at the stars. “Two years ago, I was a desperate cleaning lady,” Guadalupe said. “And now I’m married and the mother of an amazing boy. You were always his mother,” Esteban corrected her.

 “And you two always loved each other,” Mateo finished. He could see it in their eyes. “Thank you for choosing me,” Esteban said. “Thank you for trusting me again,” she replied. “Thank you for coming back,” Mateo said to them both. Guadalupe rested her head on Esteban’s shoulder and placed her hand on her barely visible belly.

 And soon there will be a new member in this family. Esteban’s eyes widened. “Are you?” She smiled and nodded. Mateo shouted with joy. “I’m going to be a big brother!” The three of them hugged each other, laughing and crying at the same time. It had been a long and painful road, but it had been worth it because in the end, love had triumphed, and they were finally a complete family.